


Playing With Fire (Liable to Burn)

by SirLadySketch



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: And Axel is going through a dry spell, But mostly it's about the smut, Fantasy AU, It was just supposed to be smut, M/M, dragon god AU, firegod AU, in which Roxas is an Adventurer, then a little bit of plot happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:35:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25758193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirLadySketch/pseuds/SirLadySketch
Summary: High Fantasy AU wherein Roxas is a member of the Adventurer's Guild, sent in to deal with a troublesome local fire god. Neither of them are what the other expects.Written from a prompt on the Akuroku server, *finally* finished in time for Akuroku Week 2020! Posting this on the final "free" day since it doesn't really fit any of the prompts.
Relationships: Axel/Roxas (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 44





	Playing With Fire (Liable to Burn)

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to Plants and SpookiePie for reading over this for me and helping me keep track of limbs! <3

The fire god’s small cave shrine wasn’t the _worst_ place to stop for lunch, all things considered. It wasn’t anything like the time Roxas had to wade through bogs to lead a will-o-wisp home, or when he’d chased a wild horse born from the North Wind through the drifting snowfields. The little cave was hot (still cooler than outside), which was to be expected, but surprisingly dim, given that most fire gods liked to keep their shrines bright with torchlight.

Roxas wiped away another trickle of sweat and studied the idol as he ate lunch, considering all of the facts he’d been able to glean from the villagers. They’d contacted the Adventurer’s Guild with a petition for divine intervention-- with their current patron local god acting up and causing a major drought, they wanted a neighboring river god to divert waters to their fields. But upon reviewing their case, the guild administrator determined the situation required a more in-depth inspection. Better to solve the initial problem of whatever was causing the fire god’s unrest than to simply patch in temporary fixes.

 _‘Besides,’_ the administrator had assured them, ‘ _we have the perfect agent with all the right skills_ _for the job.’_

He still wasn’t sure if his brother had meant that as a compliment or as a way to get him out of his hair, you could never tell with Sora. Still, Roxas had been itching for another field job, something to get him out of the city. And he had to admit that he’d had enough experiences with petty gods that he probably _was_ the best man for the job. It was the _villagers_ he had issues with.

The villagers who had greeted him cordially enough, leading him to the dry jetties and withered fields, showing off the meager results of deep-sunk wells. But they hemmed and hawed when he asked how they’d initially tried to ask their patron god about his sudden lack of blessings. It took several long bouts of verbal gymnastics and a threat to deny their petition outright for them to finally admit that they’d decided to withhold the customary offerings. Which, of course, led to a worsening of the blight and their current situation.

The situation, as he understood it, was a mess. The fire god had decided that this town deserved to fry and no one had bothered to ask him _why_ , and their passive aggressive actions only worsened whatever stick was up the god’s butt. That meant that Roxas was going to have to confront the fire god in person, determine what had happened to set him off, beg his pardon on behalf of the villagers, and act as mediator between both parties so that the situation could come to some sort of agreement, the guild could offer temporary aid to alleviate some of the drought conditions, and Roxas would have a nice commission added to his guild account.

He’d done things like this in the past-- Sora was right, he _was_ the best man for the job. But he hadn’t accounted for the heat. The small shrine at the front of the cave complex offered him a little respite from the oppressive sun outside and the sulfurous air from inside, a place to rest and think over his options before crossing into the god’s domain proper. 

He swallowed, and considered the statue again, trying to line up what he’d been told with what he saw so far. It was well made but well worn, with sections of the stone rubbed smooth from the hands of many worshippers over the years. That told him that it was old, which meant that the god himself was equally ancient. An old god meant a powerful god, which was interesting, because this seemed to be the first time in the guild’s records that the village had ever had cause to petition for assistance.

He took another bite of his apple while he studied the god’s features. Horns spiraled out of the figure’s head, and had it not been for the hands cupping the little flame against his chest, Roxas might’ve considered that he was some sort of goat-god. Again, not uncommon for an elder god to retain animalistic qualities of its precursor, but there might be some concern if the horns were still functional as weapons, rather than simple vestigial aspects of an earlier age.

The face was hard to make out, too, weathered as it was, but the placid pose of the form made him suspect that, again, despite the god’s age, he was benevolent, or at least, consistently calm enough that this likeness would be considered its most venerable depiction. Which, again, was odd, given that it was supposed to be a fire god and fire was known for being fickle.

He felt the sweat begin to pool under his knees, and he shifted, trying to move more into what little shade there was in this stony outcrop. The trees above him barely held onto their withered leaves, and the ground itself was hot to touch. It was almost too hot to eat, and it might be better to get things over with sooner than later anyway. He sighed and stood, brushing off the soot and dust from his clothes. Then he picked up his pack and went to hunt for the god.

Unlike natural caves or tunnels, this system of tunnels had been fashioned into smooth hallways of stone. The granite beneath his feet was polished to a mirror finish, and the onyx pillars along the walls were so translucent that he could see volcanic fires flickering within. It made him conclude that the sparsity of furnishings and other artifacts was intentional, allowing the beauty of the rock itself to shine. A god with refined, no-nonsense aesthetics, then, but who still managed a bit of literal flare.

He followed the halls to what had to be the reception room, given the rows of benches angled inwards. They lead up to the raised dias with a towering wall of flame and igneous rock carved into delicate pillars of light and shadow. In the middle of the platform sat a large stone slab, a massive hunk of granite that had been smoothed into a lounging chair, and piled high with furs and cushions. So, even if the god wasn’t seeing the villagers anymore, he still liked to lounge around in comfort. Every little detail was giving him a better idea of the situation, and all signs pointed to ‘fickle.’ It was a wonder he’d lasted this long as the local deity.

“I’m not in the mood to hear more of your petitions,” came a voice from deeper within the cavern. “Go away.”

Roxas paused, midstep. It was a male voice, higher pitched than he would’ve considered, given the height this god was supposed to be. It seemed to be coming from beyond the dias, no doubt the god’s inner sanctum and therefore forbidden territory, even for the holiest of priests. He pressed on, undeterred.

Once he was past the grandeur of the wall behind the lounging throne, the passages became far simpler, more homey. There were tapestries on the walls depicting exotic flowers and fauna, and the smooth granite gave way to rough rugs and sweet smelling grasses that filled the air with the gentle scent of a warm summer day as they were crushed underfoot. Roxas followed the quiet sounds of movement coming from deeper within, and stopped when he reached what was clearly the god’s sanctuary in all senses of the word.

Unlike the rest of the temple, this portion of the complex opened to the sky, letting in fresh, albeit hot air from the hills. An enclosed courtyard filled with flowers and small trees made the place a tropical paradise, complete with bubbling spring that trickled into a small stream, and over more of the igneous rocks and into a wide pool. A sanctuary indeed.

“I said, get _out,”_ came the angry growl from beyond the visible section of the garden. Roxas ignored him and dumped his pack on the group, careful not to crush any of the plants at the sanctuary’s edge. 

“I like your garden,” Roxas said, ignoring the rude dismissal. He took a step closer to the plants, admiring the lushness of the private oasis. “Is this what your lands looked like before you decided to throw a hissy fit and sulk in your cave?”

“I’m _not_ sulking!” came the angry retort, and Roxas felt the wave of heat roll over him. It came from further on beyond the pool, so he followed the stepping stone path along the edge of the pond, turning a corner to come face to face with the god himself.

“You’re not one of my people,” the god said, expression lifting into a surprised stare. 

“No,” Roxas agreed, openly staring right back.

Looking at him, Roxas began to understand why the people of the village might put up with the fickle mood of the fiery god. He was _pretty_ , in a wild, untamed sort of way. His hair was bright red, typical of a fire deity, but he’d artfully arranged them into bright spikes that followed the same curve of the horns that tapered out from his head. Purple shadows around his eyes transitioned into a peppering of marks on his cheeks like freckles, and continued down his neck and limbs before tapering off into dusky flecks of gold and red. Roxas was reminded of fish scales glinting in the sunlight, or bits of mica shining bright in the rocks when they caught the light. 

Roxas immediately adjusted his assumption from ‘goat god’ to ‘dragon’ which, really, made a lot more sense when he thought about it.

Color patterns and wild hair aside, the god looked human enough, at least from what Roxas could see above the waterline. But a mostly-human-looking dragon god meant a powerful one, and this wasn’t the first time Roxas had come up against a pretty face. He swallowed, remembering the mission, and gave a courteous bow, making sure his Guild badge was visible.

“My apologies for disturbing you,” he said as he drew himself up to his full height. “I am here on behalf of--”

“Where did they find you?” interrupted the god, still assessing him with a critical eye. “You’re not from my flock, and you’re too well-fed to come from some dustbowl farm. Did you lose a bet? Offered up to appease me?” He licked his lips, smile parting enough to show teeth.

“No...?” Roxas replied, wondering if the god thought of him as dinner. There were no records of human sacrifices, but older gods sometimes went a bit sideways mentally-speaking, and if the state of his lands was anything to go by, this one had been slipping for a while. “I’m from the Adventurer’s Guild,” he said, tapping his badge for emphasis.”I came on behalf of your people.”

“What,” the god asked, voice and expression going very flat.

“Adventurer’s Guild,” Roxas repeated, and tried to soften his posture to look a little less intimidating. “Sent on behalf of--”

“So they sent you in to kill me? Typical human response,” the god said, sinking deeper into the pool so he could blow bubbles in the water. Roxas laughed, despite his better sense, and saw steam begin to rise as the god glared at him.

“Sent to evaluate the situation and see if we could come up with some sort of compromise,” Roxas soothed, although the god continued to glare at him. “The villagers don’t know what they did to upset you and want to know what they can do to appease you.”

 _“Appease me,”_ snorted the god through bubbles. Then he paused, his expression unreadable as he sized Roxas up again. “And they sent _you.”_

“I’m very good at what I do,” Roxas replied, fighting the urge to take a step back. 

Something in the god’s expression had changed, something predatory, and he tried to remember the tomes he’d studied in the safety of the guild’s libraries. Dragons in books, descriptions written in plain, simple language, could hardly prepare him for one very real, very _focused,_ creature in the flesh. Dragons were known for longevity and wisdom, dragons could be bargained with but could tell if you told a lie. Dragons like shiny things, and were known to go to great lengths to acquire whatever they wanted for their hoards.

“Hmm,” the god purred, moving closer, although his expression hadn’t changed. Roxas had the sinking realization that all the carefully prepared warding spells and charms he’d packed in his bag were potentially useless. He hadn’t thought to check if they worked against dragons, he’d thought he was dealing with a fire goat god… which, again, was really stupid in hindsight. But why hadn’t Sora thought to ask for more information?

“Why don’t we sit and you can tell me a bit about the history of this place,” Roxas suggested, taking a very deliberate step back towards the throne room. Probably best to work in a chamber where the god was accustomed to doing business and not, potentially, eating people. He forced himself to grin, picking up his pack and going through a show of digging out pen and paper. 

“How about you tell me how you got your start, what it is you expect of your people, and what, exactly, you’re looking for in terms of tithes so we can come to an arrangement that works for both parties?”

“As scintillating as that sounds, history is hardly an exciting form of foreplay,” the god replied instead, drawing himself out of the pool and stalking towards Roxas with long, fluid steps. Roxas could feel magic mixed with that heat, tiny pinpricks that brushed against his wards and alerted him that there could possibly be danger ahead.

Roxas swallowed, and caught up in the movement and the full sight of him. The god was _very_ pretty, the water rolling off toned planes of muscle and flecked patches of that scaly coloration. Roxas was by no means a novice when it came to dealing with people attempting to seduce him to get out of their predicament, nor was he a blushing virgin, timid and tenuous when presented with a particularly attractive person. An inordinately _fits-all-kinds-of-his-interests_ attractive person, and a dark bit of suspicion blossomed in his chest that perhaps Sora had known more about the assignment than he’d let on.

Still, Roxas was a professional, and as such, he kept his focus at a professional level. Fortunately, the god was also very, very tall, so Roxas had to keep his head tilted up and away from temptation. He couldn’t do anything about the damn flush he felt across his cheeks, but it was very hot, despite the open ceiling. Perhaps he could wave it aside as a result of the heat.

Then the god smiled down at him, and Roxas knew that there wasn’t any point in trying to play it off. He knew, and he knew that Roxas knew he knew, so Roxas figured that he may as well swallow his pride. He took a deep breath and held up his notebook as a red-tape bound shield.

“Negotiations,” he managed to rasp out, then cleared his throat, forcing his voice to project over the blood rushing from his head to other regions. “I am here for negotiations. On behalf of your people, as acting representative of--”

“I’m all about negotiations meant to appease me,” hot breath on his cheek, silken voice in his ear, “I think you’ll find I’m quite flexible when it comes to these sort of things. I warn you though,” the voice moved to his other ear and Roxas was treated to the brush of heated skin against his face,” I give as good as I get.”

“So what aren’t you getting?” Roxas asked, taking another step back. While he had a feeling he knew the answer, he was here on a job, dammit, and the job had not said anything about the village’s dry spell being literal in other regards. He tried not to shiver as he felt the amusement and magic ripple through him. “Because you’re not giving your people anything.”

The god stepped back abruptly, head tilted, and frowned at him, arms sliding up to cross in front of him.

“You were sent by my people… to talk.” He sounded irritated, affronted even. Roxas nodded, and held up his notebook.

“Talking is a key step in every negotiation.”  
  
“Just to _talk_ ,” the god repeated, and Roxas could feel the wave of irritation and heat again.

“ _Negotiate,”_ Roxas repeated back, letting the word linger in the air. He didn’t want to be crass about it, but he was willing to negotiate on what ‘negotiation’ meant, especially when the god had been so bold. No one said work couldn’t also be pleasure. He left the implication open to interpretation.

The god scoffed and left, retreating back around the pond into one of the rooms beyond. Roxas followed suit, trying not to jostle his equipment too badly, nor crush the flowers as he followed the god deeper into his lair.

“It’s not as boring as it sounds, I promise,” Roxas insisted, and trotted along to keep up with the quick pace. The god ignored him, going into a room filled with books and scrolls, and threw himself into a cushioned seat similar to the throne in the reception hall. He had the decency to wrap himself in one of the silken clothes draped over the chair, at least, so Roxas was better able to focus on his face again. He cleared his throat, flipped open his notebook, and began to read the case notes aloud.

“The villagers filed a request for divine intervention after the spring rains failed to fall, and the early crops began to wither. Claimed that the local god, ‘The Great One’,” Roxas bit back a snort at that, “was ignoring their petitions for aid and in fact increased the levels of drought when they attempted to determine the cause--”

“That’s a damn lie,” the god spat out, although Roxas could feel the heat and anger swell from across the room. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, mentally cursing the many layers of woolen protection he’d worn. Enchanted cloth was great and all, but there was little point in wearing it if you were going to get boiled alive in your own pool of sweat.

The god’s mood darkened as the room grew warmer, and Roxas sighed. He had little doubt that this creature in front of him wouldn’t hesitate to scorch the lands if he felt like it-- he’d seen the god’s handiwork in person, after all. He waited for the god to continue, and when there was no further response, he read on.

“Plea case was first received and reviewed by High Enchanter Sora of Lux House, and assigned to Roxas-- that’s me-- of the same guild. Instructions were to evaluate the situation and take appropriate measures to alleviate the villagers’ plight.” 

“See, to me, ‘appropriate measures’ sounds like taking out a god, but you’re not even carrying a sword,” the dragon said, a low growl sharpening his voice. “I can see the protection wards, by the way, but they’re not gonna get you very far if I really want you dead.”

“What? No,” Roxas snorted. He held up his hair shirt, sweat dripping off. “This was for the trip _getting_ here. No, I’m supposed to be the mediator, find out what happened so both parties can come to some sort of arrangement. The villagers actually just wanted an intervention so they don’t die in the winter.”

“Intervention?”

“They wanted to petition for water diversion from the neighboring water god--” Roxas started, but the god laughed, and another wave of heat rolled over him.  
  
“Demyx?” Axel barked out. “They wanted Demyx to solve the drought?”

“He’s already agreed to divert some of his river’s waters to the dry canals,” Roxas replied, looking over his notes. “The only reason he hasn’t is because he said, and I quote ‘I have too much respect for the guy’ end quote.”

“Also because he’s got the precision of an avalanche when it comes to farming, and he’s flooded enough towns that he’s been put on banishment notice multiple times,” the god quipped, but he sank in his seat, scowling over at Roxas. 

“Fine, you want to talk? We’ll talk. Sit down.” He pointed to the chair opposite to him, staring until Roxas was obliged to take the offered seat. It was a bit higher off the ground than comfortable, but he managed to hop up without too much indignity. His armor and spelled charms made subtle clinks as he shifted into a more comfortable position.

“You know what’s the worst bit about all of this?” the god asked as Roxas finished getting more comfortable. “They don’t even know my name, call me the ‘Great One’ or whatever, but do they actually think beyond their own damn needs? No! Just expect me to hold back the cursed volcano and release enough ash into the air when they want it to make it rain. I’ve been in these lands for over a thousand years, let them build their mud huts in _my_ orchards, till _my_ lands to plant their crops. You go through one bad spell and suddenly they’re ready to kick you out of your own home and replace you with some half-witted god of dishwater. And they think they can just send someone to _ask nicely_ for me to give them what they want? What about what _I_ want?”

“What is it, then?”

The god scowled at him, and there were actual flames flickering around his fingers now, and a light smoke emitting from his nose. “How is that any of your damn--”

“Your name,” Roxas interrupted before a fireball spat out at him. The god froze, considering him with wide eyes, then fell back into his seat. The fire cooled and the smoke faded, but it was still several minutes of tense silence. Roxas waited him out.

“...Axel,” came the reply. Roxas smiled, pleased to have made this little bit of progress. And it was a nice name, it suited him. He put on his most professional expression and smoothed out the pages in his notebook.

“Well, _Axel_ , as I said, I’ve been sent to find out what, exactly, is going on. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but I am a member of the Adventurer’s Guild--”  
  
“You say that like it means something,” Axel muttered, although he was still watching Roxas with a guarded look.

“It means I’ve trained my whole life to help others in difficult situations,” Roxas replied, letting the slight insult slide. “My specialty is finding a way to bridge the gap between cross-cultural differences in mundane and magical peoples. So, when humans have difficulty communicating with someone of magical origins and fear that further communications will endanger their livelihoods--” Axel snorted, “-- they send in someone like me to see what can be done to make both sides happy.”

“Because you’re so good at negotiating.”  
  
“That, and because I’m one of the stronger mages in the guild, so I’m able to, as you say, _give as good as I get_ ,” Roxas said, and was pleased to see Axel grin at his own words being thrown back at him. He plucked at his heavy woolen shirt and pushed a little magic through the spell to make the wards sparkle for a second. “And having experience with both magical and mundane sides of the equation helps.”

Axel made another noise in the back of his throat, not quite a growl, but Roxas was used to this sort of response. Most of the magical beings he encountered automatically assumed he was there for a fight and weren’t quite sure how to respond when he tried to get them to sit down and open up. It didn’t always work, of course, and he had scars from negotiations that took a turn for the worse, but he hadn’t been lying. He was good at what he did. 

Granted, Naminé would’ve been the better choice for this. She was so much better at dealing with whinging, emotional blackmail, and twisting people around her finger with a few well placed words and ego stroking. Roxas was better at the hands-on approach, knocking sense into people and feeding them their teeth when necessary. 

If he had the long and short of it, the god--Axel-- was _lonely_. The villagers did sound a bit unappreciative of the things they expected him to do, but then again, Axel made no mention of going down to _them_ , no mention of actually trying to have a conversation. There wasn’t a whole lot to work with, not yet, but he wasn’t going anywhere until they’d made some sort of headway.

He sighed, stood up, and pulled off his cloak, draping it over the back of his chair before beginning to unlace the collar of his shirt. Axel froze, staring at him open mouthed as the shirt slid over his head and joined the cloak.

“What are you doing?” Axel asked, and sat up a little higher in his chair. Roxas shot him a look before tugging at the strings of the next layer of cloth.

“I’m _hot_ ,” Roxas snapped, and peeled off another warded shirt. The wool had almost become sodden with sweat, and he tossed it on the rock, not caring that he’d probably have to wash and treat it again when he got home. His hairshirt came off next, followed by his bracers and leg guards. When he sat down again to untie his boots, he glanced up.

Axel had been watching him without a word, although he’d moved forward in his seat, and Roxas could see the white-knuckle grip from where he sat. He ducked his head before Axel could see the grin, and deliberately slowed down his movements, turning it into a bit of a striptease. Axel fell back into his chair with a sigh when Roxas was done.

“The villagers don’t seem to know why you’re angry with them,” he said, trying the blunt approach. “If you don’t wanna talk, fine. I’ll go down there and tell them you’re just being a whiny bitch, and leave them with some guide on how to petition another god to move in, and set up barriers around the town so they won’t get engulfed in lava while they’re all sleeping in their beds. If you’re not gonna take care of the people who’ve been giving you tithes-- and they’re _really_ high rates, I might add -- they shouldn’t bother with you anymore.” 

“You wouldn’t dare,” Axel said, although for the first time he seemed less sure of himself. His eyes followed every move as Roxas dug through his pack, ignoring him.

“I’ve done it before,” Roxas said, extracting his water bottle and taking a sip. It was tepid and slightly acidic now, but it was better than nothing.

“They’re _my_ lands!”

“Which have been scorched to a crisp and useless to everyone including yourself,” Roxas replied, then settling back in his chair to wait.

“I can kill you before you take two steps,” the god said, and Roxas shrugged, unperturbed.

“Probably. But every adventurer has backup plans, and if I don’t report in to my brother, he’ll send in a squad to find me. Well, what’s left. And then you’ll be caught up in something even worse than me-- paperwork.”

When Axel didn’t reply, Roxas decided to push, just a little, to see what would happen.

“So we can negotiate or not, it’s up to you. It’s just less hassle to go through me than getting the rest of the guild involved. Your call.”

Axel drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair, clearly torn by the idea of dealing with a minor inconvenience now versus going through a much longer, less flexible situation later. He sighed, smoke hissing out of his nose, and pulled up a ball of flame, rolling it over his fingers as he considered his response.

“And how do these… _negotiations_ ,” he said it like it was a promise, a small smile on his face, “tend to work?”

Roxas smiled back, pleased that had gotten things started. “It depends on every situation,” he admitted, pulling out his pen and paper again. “You can flat out tell me what it is you want and expect of your people, and I go back with them to present your terms. They discuss the demands and then I escort the village elder up here to enter into a civil debate, in which case I act as intermediary.”

“Don’t think that one’s gonna work,” Axel said with a snort. Roxas raised an eyebrow, and Axel replied, “I accidentally ate his favorite cow once and we haven’t been on good terms since. That was, hm, 80-odd years ago, but the old coot never forgave me. Humans.” 

Roxas could see how that might exacerbate the situation, and nodded, showing he understood. “Alright, well, I can also act as courier, taking your terms down to the villagers. They review them, discuss them, and I return with any requests or revisions they have, you make your own reviews, etc. That process takes a little longer, especially if there are a lot of revisions on both sides, but the case isn’t considered closed until both sides are satisfied and a peaceful resolution is reached.”

Axel made a low ‘hmm’ noise in the back of his throat, staring at the flame that flitted around his fingers. He seemed less than excited about those options, but at least it didn’t seem like he was considering lobbing the ball of flame at Roxas. 

Roxas took a deep breath, then offered, “The other alternative is that you explain to me what’s been going on. Take me back to the start of it all and give me your account of everything. Then I can draft up suggested terms that, again, both parties need to sign off on.” He raised his hands in a sign of peace at Axel’s sharp look. “I get that it might be a sensitive subject, but sometimes talking these things out with an impartial party helps bring clarity.”

“And you keep saying you’re good at what you do…” Axel trailed off, clearly considering it.

“I’m good at _everything_ I do,” Roxas promised, and that got him a sharp grin in response. But Axel didn’t respond immediately. He stared out into the gardens, the silence of the room only broken by the muffled trickle of the waterfall beyond. 

Roxas sipped more of his water and waited, figuring Axel would talk when he was good and ready. He was glad that he’d taken the heavy layers of fabric off. It was still hot, but more manageable with the light breeze drifting through the door and windows. He considered casting a small cooling charm, but decided against it, thinking it might come off as rude to his ‘host.’

”My ex left me for the moon,” Axel sighed at last. 

Roxas considered what that meant. The moon… as in a month? But the drought had been happening longer than that-- a build up over the past few years until it got so dire that the townsfolk felt they needed to take action. So… the actual moon, maybe? Or some demigod representing the moon, more like. In this line of work, one could never tell. But it explained the dry spell-- literal and figurative. He couldn’t remember if dragons mated for life or not, but it explained a lot.

“That’s rough,” Roxas replied, not really sure what else to say. He wished Naminé was here. “You wanna talk about it?”

Instead of answering, Axel stood, padding over to a sideboard and rifling through cabinets until he found two goblets and a bottle of wine. He filled both cups and handed one to Roxas, then slumped back in his lounger, settling in to get comfortable.

“So why’re you here?” Axel asked as Roxas took a sip of the wine. It was spicy, so sort of mulled concoction, but it was also sweet, and it left a pleasant burn on the tongue as it slid down his throat. It also left him feeling very relaxed, which probably meant it’d been made at a potency meant for beings with a higher tolerance than him. He felt his face flush as he carefully set the goblet on a table.

“I told you, I’m supposed to-”

Axel snorted and the torches in the hallway flared with a brief burst of brightness. “No, I mean, why are _you_ here? Why take this mission? No offence, but you’re not really the brawny type I’d anticipate from a place called ‘Adventurer’s Guild’. You seem like you’d be happier in a library.”

“There’s a nice commission if things are resolved amicably,” Roxas admitted, then shrugged, wiping away more sweat with the hem of his shirt. Axel’s eyes followed the movement. “I also get bored with little jobs in the city, so I like taking fieldwork when I can. I get to see lots of interesting places that way.”

“Hmm….” Axel tapped his cheek again, clucking his tongue. “And have you seen anything _interesting_ on this particular journey?”

He was fishing for a compliment, Roxas realized, and almost laughed aloud. He managed to stifle his amusement into a wry smirk. 

“Your country looks like it might’ve been really pretty, once upon a time. You said there were orchards?”

Axel nodded, sobering a little, then took a long drink. “We planted them… I can’t even remember how long ago.”

“We.... you mean you and your ex?” Axel nodded, and Roxas considered that. “You both worked hard to make the lands look nice, to help the humans prosper,” he guessed, and got another nod. “And then your ex left, and you didn’t want to look at them anymore.”

Axel spat out sparks. Roxas watched them dance along the floor and noticed all the char marks for the first time. He was glad he’d decided to put his clothes over the back of the chair and not on the ground. 

“And then he _left_ ,” Axel confirmed, then gulped down the rest of his glass before pouring himself another. “And it didn’t seem like there was a point.”

“When was this?” Roxas asked, and Axel scowled at him, nostrils flaring.

“Twenty… maybe thirty years ago? Who keeps track? Human years pass so quickly,” Axel muttered, drinking heavily again. Roxas didn’t want to point out that a year was just a cycle of seasons that affected everyone; he didn’t think that would go over well.

“That long?” Roxas asked instead, and couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice. Fire rippled over Axel in irritation, and he hastened to clarify. “No, no, I mean, the report says things only started to get difficult for the villagers in the past few years. If your ex leaving was what started this, I’m surprised it’s taken so long for the villagers to send for us.”

“Yeah, well, it took a while for me to realize he was gone-- like, gone for good, you know? We’d had our fights, but he never…. And I’m not a monster,” Axel huffed. “I wasn’t gonna let the people who needed my help starve just because I was going through a rough patch. It was just sort of the only routine I had left, it was sort of ingrained by that point, so I didn’t think _not_ to go through the motions, you know?”

“But something changed in the past couple of years,” Roxas suggested, wishing he could write all this down without seeming to be rude. He took another sip of wine and shuddered, feeling the heat run through his veins. Axel was watching him, but didn’t bring it up.

“Maybe? I don’t know.” Axel huffed out a sigh, and sparks danced in the space between them. “I don’t specifically remember one complaint about corn yield compared to someone bitching about their fields not getting as much rain as someone else’s. I guess I just woke up one day and realized that I didn’t feel like making it rain. There didn’t seem to be a point,” Axel admitted, and slumped further in his chair. “Hard to care about people who only visit to demand stuff from you. After a couple of warning shots to leave me alone, they didn’t even bother coming inside anymore, just dumped stuff on the steps and left. And the crap they left wasn’t worth keeping.”

“They probably scraped together whatever they could from the lands,” Roxas said, voice firm. As much as he might be able to sympathize, he’d seen situations like this before, and he’d had to trek through Axel’s territory, which meant he had a first-hand account of the damages that had been wrought. “Did you ever go out and look to see what your neglect did to your lands?”

“Why bother?” Axel asked. “Figured they’d up and leave, just like--well. Just figured they’d leave me and find someplace new to settle. Never thought they’d send a--” Axel cut himself off before finishing that sentence, slight flush on his cheeks, so Roxas finished the thought for him.

“Never thought they’d send someone up to ‘help’,” Roxas emphasized that last bit, which earned him a rueful chuckle.

“I just wondered if they sent _you_ because they know I like pretty things,” Axel teased, and laughed as Roxas felt his cheeks darken. “Not that talking with you hasn’t been nice-- it’s been _ages_ since I had a decent conversation -- but I had sort of hoped that they’d put two and two together and I wouldn’t have to spell it out for them. Don’t they know gods are supposed to be mysterious? I can’t flat out tell them what I want, they’re supposed to infer it through my actions.”

“To be fair, you said it’d been twenty-plus years since your ex left,” Roxas said. “For a lot of humans, that’s a third of their lifetimes, during which time they might’ve gone out and found other, ah, outlets for their frustrations.”

“Not my fault they’re so short lived,” Axel replied. “It hasn’t been that long for _me,_ it’s only starting to sink in.”

“So you thought the villagers realized that you needed a little coddling and sent me up here as some sort of sacrificial offering?” Roxas asked, voice carefully flat.

“Not sacrificial, that would defeat the whole purpose. And coddling is so _dismissive_ , it sounds like cuddling and we’d be doing a lot more than _that_ ,” Axel promised. Roxas shifted in his seat, and Axel relented a little, sitting back.

“But maybe you can stay a while, tell me more about the ‘interesting things’ you’ve seen on your travels. Amuse me, maybe we can find a way to make it rain together. I’m interested in whatever you’re offering.” Axel grinned. “I’ve had a bit of a dry spell.”

“You don’t say.”

Axel leaned over and refilled Roxas’ barely-touched glass, and managed to brush against Roxas’ skin. The heat was instant, and Roxas flushed even deeper when he pulled away.

“C’mon, you can’t say it’s not tempting. It’s not every day you get propositioned by a god, right?” Axel practically purred, and Roxas laughed, despite himself.

“Not every mission, no,” he agreed, and grinned back at Axel over the rim of his glass. “Not every time I genuinely consider it, either. I’ll need to review my notes first, though.”

Axel hummed and sipped his wine, waiting for Roxas’ reply. Roxas made a show of setting down his drink and jotting down a brief synopsis of everything Axel had said. The spelled paperwork would transmit his writings to the guild when he closed and latched the book, so he needed to be concise about the situation-- and be thorough in writing out his intentions, but not necessarily include enough to encourage his brother to make an in-person visit to ‘ensure his safety.’ He tapped his pen against his lips as he stared down at the “planned actions” section of his report. 

Glancing up at Axel, he saw that the god had gone back to looking out the window, but he could sense the tension, the anticipation, the _hope_ in that deliberate pretense of privacy. And he was so damn gorgeous, why _not_ mix a little business with pleasure? It would kill two birds with one stone, and he had a feeling that helping Axel ease off some tension might go a long way in resolving the village’s issues as a whole. Not that he thought saying ‘no’ would affect the outcome (he was very good at what he did, after all), but why say no when both of them wanted to say ‘yes’?

Roxas quickly wrote “agent will be drafting terms to present to both parties, more details to come later” and quickly shut and latched the book, feeling the charm activate. The spell caught Axel’s attention, but he didn’t seem alarmed. Roxas set the book aside and steepled his fingers under his chin, gauging Axel’s reactions.

“Given that you seemed less inclined to go with the first and second options of negotiations, I’m assuming that means you’d prefer to hear my suggestions before coming to a decision on how to proceed.” When Axel nodded, Roxas stood up and walked over to stand in front of him, then dropped to his knees. Axel went very still, but focused.

“You said you gave as good as you got,” Roxas said, spreading Axel’s thighs to give him more room. “So I’m giving you something nice now, and you can return the favor later. _Negotiations_ ,” he reminded him. 

Axel’s voice grew husky as he watched Roxas position himself between his knees. He casually wrapped his fingers around the chair arms to keep them in place. “Yeah? What kind of negotiations?”

“Hmmm,” Roxas leaned in and hummed against the silk covering Axel’s thigh. The fabric wasn’t sheer enough to show him everything, but it also left little to the imagination. He could see that Axel was already standing well at attention and wondered if that meant that it would be a quick dalliance, over and done in less than an hour. He hoped not-- Axel wasn’t the only one who’d been going through a dry spell lately, and it might be fun to draw out the afternoon for as long as possible. 

“How long has it been since someone has worshipped you as they should?” Roxas asked, placing a chaste kiss on Axel’s knee. “Since they came before you, prostrate and supplicant--” he ran fingers along the backs of Axel’s calves, feeling the tight muscle and small sparks of heat flare up where their skin made contact. “Since you were adored and praised as is your due?”

Roxas leaned in and blew softly against the exposed skin of Axel’s stomach, and he was rewarded with the muscles tensing up. He kissed Axel again below his navel, letting Axel feel the smile against his skin.

“What promises should be given, what hymns sung in exaltation to your glory?” He trailed his mouth lower, letting Axel feel the light nip of teeth as he moved. When he got to the hem of the cloth, he looked up at Axel through hooded eyes, his voice coming out low and hoarse.

“Shall I offer up a prayer? Sing your praises in the hopes that you might shower me with your blessings?” He licked his lips, blew out a long, controlled breath on the wet spot he’d just kissed. “For you to show mercy on your people, I come to you on my knees, hoping to….negotiate.” He licked Axel through the cloth.

Roxas heard the chair arms crack.

“I’ve always been told that I’m very good with my hands,” he continued as though he hadn’t noticed. He ran a finger along Axel’s length through the sheer fabric. At the same time, he went back to gentle kisses and light nips along Axel’s thigh, lingering in spots that earned him a low, appreciative growl. His fingers stepped their way up to the edge of the fabric to pull it away, exposing Axel to the air. “Charms come easy to me--” he sketched out the sigil for ice on Axel’s inner thigh and the god actually hissed as the magic burned away in a small puff of steam. 

“I’ve tinkered with things my whole life, so I’m pretty good at doing things with my fingers,” he said as he ran Axel’s shaft between two knuckles and dragged his thumb behind for friction. Axel was perfectly still, but even with that light touch Roxas could feel his pulse quicken. 

“Then again,” he said, and licked his lips in anticipation, “I’ve always thought I was more clever with my mouth-- negotiations and all that, you know how it is. You’ll have to let me know what you think.” 

He placed a gentle kiss at the crown of Axel’s cock, then took the head in his mouth, giving it a swirl with his tongue. Axel muttered something unintelligible, and Roxas heard bits of the chair arms crumble to the floor. He smiled, pulled back, and ran his tongue along the length of him, fingers trailing down Axel’s flanks as he worked. 

Axel’s hands found their way into his hair-- surprisingly gentle, but Roxas could feel the tips of claws on his scalp. He made a small noise as Axel gave him a light tug, pulling him back to the tip of his cock. Roxas snorted against his shaft but got the message, opening his mouth and taking in as much as he could. He didn’t get all that far down, but Axel seemed to like it well enough. He moved one hand to wrap the base of Axel’s cock while the other went to his sac. He braced himself for the friction as Axel used his grip in Roxas’ hair to pick up the pace and thrust in eager, deliberate strokes.

In some distant corner of his mind, the researcher side of him that he’d never truly been able to quell, he made a list of little observations. Taste was similar to any other beings he’d been with, mundane or magical, and while Axel was well proportioned for his stature, Roxas didn’t think he’d have any trouble accommodating him wherever they decided to take this. The heat, though, and the magic-- they burned on his tongue, a prick of pain that only seemed to drive him to push Axel further down his throat. 

In retaliation to Axel’s enthusiastic thrusts, Roxas used the finger fondling Axel sac to trace out another sigil for _chill_ and was rewarded with a surprised yelp from above. Axel’s pace began to falter, apparently close, and Roxas moved his hands to hold him in place. Another short drag in his mouth and then it was filled with the salty, peppery taste of Axel’s spend. Not terribly unpleasant, all things considered, but it burned sliding down his well-used throat. Could’ve been worse-- could’ve tasted like sulphur.

Then Axel pulled him off his cock and dragged him up for a kiss, settling Roxas in his lap. Roxas opened his lips to let out a groan as Axel’s tongue darted between his lips, hot and longer than a human’s tongue would reach. The thought didn’t really phase him, though. Axel tasted intoxicating. There was the sweet tang of the wine, but it mixed with Axel’s own flavor, something peppery and sharp. Roxas eagerly opened his mouth to drink it in, letting out yet another moan as Axel dragged him flush against his scalding flesh and rapidly revitalizing cock.

Roxas’ own erection burned with the delicious friction of cloth, but what he really wanted was closer contact with that heat, skin against scales or whatever they were. As if reading his mind, Axel had him out of the rest of his clothes in minutes, and pressed him into the soft blankets and pillows of one of the lounging couches, barely breaking their kiss.

“Hmmm, a pleasing rite, always a favorite,” Axel murmured against Roxas’ lips. His hands were everywhere, claws pricking his sides, his nipples, his stomach. Roxas whimpered when fingers ghosted along the underside of his neglected cock, eliciting a light chuckle from Axel. “I’m feeling benevolent today, shall I grant you my blessings?”

Roxas started to say something about how he’d already had it in his mouth, thanks, but Axel took that moment to bite him on the shoulder, sharp fangs pricking just enough to draw drops of blood. Roxas’ snarky comment turned into a gasping moan. He clung to Axel as he felt the dragon’s magic flood his system, temporarily making him see white as fiery heat flooded through his veins and straight to his cock. 

He probably could’ve come from that alone, but Axel moved his mouth and the sensation ebbed. Roxas tried to chase it by arching up against him, but Axel merely tsked and guided him back down into the blankets. When he had Roxas where he wanted him, he pulled Roxas’ hands over his head and pressed down, a silent command to stay put. Roxas snorted but lay complacent, watching Axel through hooded eyes.

In the half light of this room, Axel gave off a soft glow, a sheen of red that flickered like flames over his skin. For a moment, Roxas wondered if that was what Axel meant, seeing the more dragon side to him, but he could see that it was magic, not fire, that flitted across his skin. Impressive, but not unheard of among mages.

Axel sat back on his haunches, taking in the view with a smile that showed a lot of teeth. 

“What a sight,” he crooned, and licked his lips. Roxas wanted them back on his skin, and moved his leg to brush against Axel’s thigh, urging him to keep going. This earned him another laugh. “Not used to my food playing with me; it’s usually the other way around. And you do look ravenous. As much as I want to savor this, I think I want to hear my name on your lips, shouted in exaltation.” 

The magic flared over his body and Roxas caught a glimpse of something _more_ , something beyond the glamor of this human skin. But it was gone again in another heartbeat, and Axel had materialized a jar from thin air. Roxas recognized it for what it was and grinned, appreciating the trick. Without bringing his arms down, he spread his legs wider, inviting Axel to get on with it. 

But Axel took his time, dipping his finger into the jar, making a show of swirling it around and coating it from base to tip. Roxas let out an irritated noise and Axel arched an eyebrow, leaning over until they were face to face.

“Impatient? I haven’t even said grace yet,” he laughed, and gave him a quick peck on the lips before settling back down between Roxas’ knees. He blew out a long breath, the hot air almost scalding on Roxas’ sensitive skin, but he needn’t have worried. Axel winked at him, said, ‘god bless,’ and swallowed him to the hilt without any further hesitation.

Several things happened at once, although Roxas would be hard pressed to decide what happened when. Axel’s mouth was scorching on his cock, an overwhelming heat that was pleasure almost to the point of pain. At the same time, a finger breached him, gentle, but long reaching, and slicked with some potion that tingled where it touched. He also experienced that roar of white he’d had when Axel bit him the first time, and came amidst it all. 

He probably would’ve been embarrassed to have finished so quickly, but Axel seemed to have expected it. He simply swallowed and then resumed sucking, keeping his mouth occupied as another finger found its way inside. Roxas panted as he came off his high, still feeling the fire race through his blood, hungering for more even though that had been one of the best-- albeit fastest-- orgasms he’d ever had. 

He reached down and tugged lightly on Axel’s hair, which rewarded him with a moan around his cock. But he insisted and Axel eventually lifted his head, kissing his way up Roxas’ body as his fingers continued their relentless press inwards.

Roxas panted and pushed against his hand, already starting to perk up with interest again when Axel brushed against him, hot and hard. 

“God, Axel, please, I want, _please_ , haa- it’s right there, almost, I, ahh!” he yelped as Axel bit him again. There was no flood of magic this time, but Roxas still shivered and whimpered against him, legs wrapping around his waist to try to pull him in. Axel just chuckled, giving him a nip along his jawbone.

“I wanted to savor this, but I suppose we can play a bit later. Never let it be said that I’m not merciful, let me reward your devotions,” he said, pulling out the jar to coat himself once before lining himself up and pushing inside.

Axel captured Roxas’ gasp with another kiss, and had the gall to huff pleased chuckles as Roxas let out a flurry of expletives as they moved, entwined. Not to be outdone, Roxas gave as good as he got, at one point managing to roll them in the process. He was well aware that Axel let him do it, but there were no complaints on either end. By the time he came again, Roxas wasn’t sure he’d have the energy to write down suggested compromises, let alone walk them down to the villagers. Still, it had been _fun_ , and he could worry about the rest of it later. He collapsed on top of Axel in a sticky, sweaty mess.

They lay together for a time, cooling off in the steamy afternoon air. A quiet, rhythmic thumping reached his ears, and for a moment Roxas wondered if it was some magic stirring, pulsing with Axel’s heartbeat. Then he came out of his orgasmic fog enough to identify the sound as rain on the slightly hissing earth. He mustered enough energy to prop his chin up on Axel’s chest and raised an eyebrow.

“Really? All you needed was to get laid the one time?”

Axel laughed and dragged him up and into a sloppy kiss. “Maybe I just needed the right motivation to release my blessings,” he laughed, then made a plaintive whine when Roxas poked him in the ribs. “Sacrilege,” he chided, though he made no effort to move. “Besides, can’t have Demyx moving in on my turf.”

“I’ll release your blessings,” Roxas muttered, rolling off him and falling back into the pillows with a sigh. “I’ll come up with an official comprehensive list of suggestions in the morning and I can take it to the villagers once you’ve had a chance to review them. Just promise that next time you’ll just do what any other go would do and find a nice mortal to shag. Don’t scorch your lands because you’re too lazy to go out and get lucky.”

“Why go out when I already have someone perfectly adequate at home?” Axel said, nuzzling his ear. “This arrangement suits my needs. The villagers have their rain, I have my offering, it’s fine.”

“For the last time, I’m _not_ a fucking offering, I’m-- wait, _adequate?_ Adequate?? I’ll show _you_ adequate--”

Several hours later, Roxas wasn’t sure if he’d have the energy to hold up the scrying mirror, let alone report in on his progress. It was a good kind of boneless energy to have, a nice, heavy satisfaction that had him laying in content where he’d landed after their last round. He probably should’ve been uncomfortable, given that he had a naked fire god pressed up against him, but Roxas found himself pleasantly warm as the sweat began to cool on his skin. 

He could report in tomorrow, he decided. Ask Sora for extended time to work while he found an _actual_ solution for Axel’s dilemma. Sure, he was the best field agent they had, and yes, that had definitely been the best sex he’d ever had, but the solution wouldn’t be permanent--couldn’t be. He’d have to get back to work eventually.

Then again, even the best agents deserved a vacation. Maybe he could take a sabbatical, do some intensive research into dragon relations. He’d bring it up with his brother tomorrow, when he felt like it. Giving one last satisfied stretch, he drifted off to sleep with the steady patter of rain falling in the courtyard beyond.

**Author's Note:**

> I would love to see someone write stuff to continue this if people are interested (hint hint) ;) Thanks for reading guys, happy Akuroku day!


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